


When I See You

by drpepper23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drpepper23/pseuds/drpepper23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a cigarette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I See You

He came around the corner that night and Mickey felt a cold chill sweep his entire body. Hair red as a firecracker, shoulders broad as a plank, and eyes as green as the sea. Mickey inhaled deeply, his gaze never leaving the other man’s face. 

He stomped a cigarette under his foot, thinking about those large hands gripping him, owing him, shaping and remaking him. “Store’s closed,” he said, cocking a thumb at the small mini-market behind them. 

The redhead inclined his head to the side and looked towards Mickey’s crushed smoke. “Anymore of those?”

Mickey started down the street. “Got a whole pack at home.”

The minute Mickey closed the door it was on, and whatever fantasies he’d concocted in his head, in no way prepared him for the real thing. 

They devoured each other, tore through each other, like salvage beast going after their last meal. Bite marks were made, skin was bruised, hickeys started to form, and still they couldn’t get enough.

It was three in the morning, when they finally tumbled over for the last time, and Mickey gave the promised cigarette, that had stared all this. 

Redhead took it, leaning over, so Mickey could light the end for him. “Ian,” he said, as he stood, and began to gather his clothes.

Mickey lit one for himself, sweat making his hands slick. “Mickey,” he said, eyes on the redhead the whole time.

Ian put on his jeans, shoes, and socks. “Do this again sometimes?”

Mickey blew out a ring of smoke and averted his eyes. “Not looking for nothing but this.”

Ian pulled his shirt over his head and shrugged. “See you around then, I guess.”

Mickey continued to puff off his cigarette, as he watched Ian walk out the door.

#

The next time he saw Ian was at a nightclub in boys-town, three months later. He was walking through a crowd of dancing bodies, on his way to get a beer, when strong arms encircled his waist, making everything in him go still. 

“Wanna go home with me tonight?” Warm breath caressed his ear, and he’d recognize that voice and that smell anywhere, as neither had left his mind since their first night together. 

He never thought he’d see or feel them again, and he felt the urge to run, because no way could this shit end well for him.

Still, it was one thing to have something you wanted and not be able to touch it, and quite another to have that thing pressed up against you, begging you to take it home. 

Mickey hesitated only a second, before turning around, and letting Ian lead him back to his place.

Once again, they demolished each other. Destroyed and rebuild each other, as they gave into cravings and feelings that only the other seemed able to satisfy. 

Ian walked to the bathroom and came back with cigarettes and two beers. He passed one of each to Mickey, then sat on the bed, his back to the headboard. “Gotta get up earlier in the morning.”   
Mickey could take a hint. He lit up his cigarette, downed the rest of his beer, and threw a “See ya,” over his shoulder, as he walked out the door.

#

It was two months later and Mickey was at a, “what’s new” seminar for work. He hated those fucking things, but they were mandatory, and so he did what he needed to keep his job. 

Two hours in, Ian sat down beside him, and Mickey wondered how he’d never noticed they were in the same line of work. 

They went back to his hotel room, and this time they fucked slow and easy, in a way neither ever had before. They were in a strange city, feeling strange shit, and so fucking what, if Ian stayed all night this time. 

In the morning, they ordered room service, talked about random shit that made them both laugh, and parted ways with no promises to see each other again. 

#

The months slipped by, and for the first time in his life, Mickey wondered what it would be like to fuck the same person night after night. Because no one else measured up, and searching for that feeling that Ian gave him, was like looking for warmth in a snowstorm. 

Decision made, he rounded the steps to Ian’s apartment building, only stopping when he saw a group of guys coming around the corner, Ian in the middle. 

Not wanting to be where he wasn’t wanted, he stomped out his cigarette, fought down the burning rage in his stomach, and hopped the L back home. 

A couple of nights later, Ian was knocking at his door, and Mickey didn’t ask questions, as he pulled him inside, claiming what he’d been missing for months.

The clock read three a.m. again, but this time Ian made no move to leave and Mickey didn’t ask him to go. 

In the morning they drunk beer, smoked cigarettes, and ate poptarts and Froot Loops. 

Ian left at noon and Mickey went back to bed, feeling better than he’d felt in weeks. 

#

They met again three nights later, and Ian finally answered the question that Mickey hadn’t bothered to ask. “Saw you that night, you know? Was with a group of guys from my apartment building.”

Mickey nodded, figured it was none of his business anyway, and inhaled the last of his cigarette. 

The next time it was Mickey knocking at the door, and Ian opened it with blood-shot eyes, and a nose as red as his hair. Mickey helped him back to bed, and held him all night, as he shivered, shook, and threw-up every bodily fluid known to mankind.

In the morning they spilt a can of chicken noodle soup, drunk a pot of coffee, and climbed back in bed. Mickey pulled him close, and the rest of the day was spent on repeat. 

#

It took three more months, before they could admit they were in a relationship together, and six months after that, to move into a small one-bedroom house, just the two of them. 

Mickey watched Ian on the front porch, wind blowing through his hair, as he lit up a cigarette.

He brought out two beers, handed one to Ian, looking at the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Got another one of those?”

Ian smiled wide, and reached inside his pocket, his eyes saying he was remembering their first night together. “Got a whole pack right here.”

Mickey took the one from between Ian’s lips, thought about how far they’d come, and then pulled him in the house, closing the door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
